Myrto

I wanted to like this book, but in the end, I thought that it was basically Annie Dillard-style writing, but not nearly as polished and seamless as Dillard's work.

This book tries to weave birdwatching into the process of the author's mother's death from (I believe) cancer. So it had the potential to be beautiful and heartbreaking. But it never did really become either beautiful or heartbreaking.

The alternation between scenes of birdwatching and mother's illness was kind of jarring, and broke up the emotional content of both topics.

I wish I had liked it more.